


just keep swinging

by writerangel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Gen, idk i liked it but ahhh hope u enjoy, this was for funsies and funnies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerangel/pseuds/writerangel
Summary: upon his patrols peter comes into a bit of a problem when he needs to use the restroom. then he happens upon your family's ice cream parlor.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	just keep swinging

Nothing much interesting happened at your job. You worked weekdays mostly, right after school, so most of your customers were families or teenagers high out of their minds. This particular Wednesday was supposed to be no different than the others. Clock in, serve the occasional customer, and get an early start on your day’s homework. You were just finishing up putting back your last customer’s change when he walked in. Spider-Man was in your family’s ice cream parlor. 

No one batted an eye at his entrance, but you lost your ability to speak. He limped in, not in pain but more looking as if he was uncomfortable. Sizing him up before you, it was different from what you expected from all the videos from Youtube. He wasn’t short but rather he was just a man. 

“Hey, um, could I use your bathroom?” He let out quietly. His voice was higher than you would’ve expected. To your luck, and his misfortune, your mother walked up right next to him, broom in hand. 

“Restrooms are for paying customers only.” She tapped on the sign hung up behind her with the handle. 

He let out a nervous chuckle, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I, uh, I would, but I don’t have any money on my right now. No pockets.” He gestured to his suit to prove he was telling the truth. 

You found his shy nature endearing but your mother seemed to disagree. “No pay, no pee. Your choice.” Your body froze in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe your mother just said that out loud and to the Spider-Man. Your mother was shaking down on Spider-Man. 

“Um."

“And frankly, I don’t trust your little get up. It’s creepy and Halloween isn’t for months.” 

“Mom!” You hissed at her, snapping back to reality. “Let it go. That’s Spider-Man.”

She crossed her arms looking at you. “I don’t care if you’re Spider-Man, Beetle-Boy, or Butterfly-Insect. You buy something or you leave.” 

You chewed on your lower lip. “He protects the streets, Mom.” You gave him an awkward side eye to apologize. He was dancing on the balls of his feet. 

She turned to focus her attention on you now. “Does he protect our toilets? Did he protect our restroom when Smelly Stan clogged up the plumbing for the third time this month?” Your jaw fell slightly open, unsure of how to answer. “That’s what I thought.” She waved at him to leave. “Now shoo! You’re scaring the customers.” 

You and Spider-Man looked at the total of two customers in the shop, teenagers too lost in their own selves to register the scene before them. Nevertheless, your mother started sweeping him out of the store. 

He held his arms up in defeat. “Okay okay! Could you at least direct me to somewhere that has a bathroom I can use?” 

“Do I look like google maps to you?” 

“Mom.” 

She looked back at you and sighed. “Maybe the hotel on 49th.” 

He said, “thank you,” and walked out the door. 

Your mother mumbled to herself before heading to the backroom. You watched her and made sure the door closed all the way behind her before running outside, hoping to catch him. He was still there, dancing on his toes, looking ready to leave. 

“Psst! Spider-Man.” It felt weird to say his name out loud to him. He looked up from fumbling at his wrists to you. “Come on,” you nodded your head towards the inside. 

“But,” he started to protest, but you didn’t have time for it. 

“Come on!” You pressed further. It seemed to shut him up because he began to follow you. Once inside, his posture stiffened and he treaded slowly, but his figure relaxed when he realized your mother was nowhere to be seen. You gestured forward in front of you. “Go straight ahead and it’ll be on your right.” 

He sighed in delight. “Oh, thank you so much,” before dashing to the restrooms. 

“Make it quick!” You yelled back at him before resuming your previous tasks. Thankfully, he listened to you as he managed to make it back out before your mother did. When she left the back room, she immediately went to complaining. 

“Creeper in a spanx suit thinks he’s so special.” 

“I can’t believe you actually bullied,  _ the _ Spider-Man, Mom.” 

She tisked at you. “Your generation is so sensitive. I didn’t bully him; I treated him like a normal customer.” 

You shook your head, pulling out your phone to show her Youtube. “Okay, look. This is him,” you said, bringing up one of the many videos of the hero fighting crime. She leaned forward, grabbing your phone in hand, and watched in scrutiny. She was making small noises of “ouch” and grimacing in reaction to the video. “Well?” You asked once it finished. 

“Hmm,” she hummed. 

You blinked at her, bewildered. “That’s it?” 

She shrugged, “He’s okay. Makes a big mess.” 

With eyebrows raised and jaw falling slack, you said, “he fights crime, Mom. Spider-Man’s a hero.” 

She laughed. “Spider-Boy, maybe. Spider-Child. Not a man.” 

The second time he entered your shop was two weeks later. There was a big time gap but quite frankly you were surprised he showed his… well, mask… around again at all. You were up at the counter again, your mother was right beside you this time. 

His hands were fidgeting against each other. “Hey, can I-”

It was a much busier day than the last time, so you assumed that your mother would cut him some slack this time, but to no avail. She cut him off before you could let so much as a smile in. “No. You know the rules!” 

“I’m really sorry. But, I’m about to… you know.” 

She shook her head. “Nuh uh. Not here you’re not.” Her finger pointed at the door.

Just then you did the most bravest, most stupidest thing of your life. You grabbed your mother by the shoulders so only you were in her line of sight and hoped that Spider-Man had brains enough to catch on before she did. “Mom, I just want you to know that I love you and I adore you and I appreciate you to the fullest.” 

She looked at you weird. “Have you been smoking?” 

Your nose scrunched at her comment. “What? No! Mom, I just think it doesn’t get said enough.” Out of the corner of your eye, you the eyes of his mask widen and he quietly dashed towards the bathroom. 

“Well, … thank you. But right now-” She turned her head to look at where he used to be standing. When she came up empty, she looked back at you and slapped you on the shoulder. 

The abrupt contact finally made your hands drop from her. “Ow!” 

“Don’t you care about the quality of your store?” She reprimanded. 

“Of course I do! But he’s not gonna destroy the place.”

“Why not? He destroyed Brooklyn just last Tuesday.” Suddenly her tone dropped to a very steady and firm one, making all the humor in your demeanor fall away. This whole time you thought it was one big joke that the three of you were in on. But she was being serious. 

Frowning, “That wasn’t him! He protects the city.” 

“How do you know that? Were you there?” 

You let out a breath. It was unbelievable that you were actually arguing about this with your own mother. “He’s not like that.” 

She shook her head, turning away from you. “People can surprise you.” 

When he exited the bathroom, you were sitting at a booth doing homework while your mother was seated at the cashier’s position. You looked up at him as he passed but she didn’t even spare him a glance. 

“Thank you,” he spoke on his way out. 

“You know,” she said, eyes trained on her magazine, “in my typical experience, when we see a spider, we kill it.” 

He cocked his head. “Well, they can’t seem to kill me yet.” 

She turned the page. “Well, they haven’t met me.” 

He turned his feet to full face her, head on. “Is that a threat?” 

“No. Just an observation.” 

You watched him as he left the door and your eyes focused back towards his footing. He was no longer limping, but there was toilet paper stuck to the bottom of what looked to be his shoe. Standing quickly, you jogged out the door behind him. You stomped on the paper, removing it, but the sound startled him. 

He turned to look at your foot, then up at you. “What was that?” 

“Toilet paper.” He nodded in gratitude as you gave him an awkward smile. “Listen, um. I don’t think my mom would much enjoy it if you came into the store on her days off.” 

He let out a huff of a laugh. “That makes sense.” 

“Yeah, so you really  _ really  _ shouldn’t show up on any given Monday, Tuesday, or Thursday. That wouldn’t be any good at all for you  _ or _ me.” 

The eyes of his mask grew small, as if they were to feign the impression that he was smiling. He straightened up, demonstrating understanding. “Duly noted.” 

Once the rest of the customers filtered out, your mother spoke again. “You need to be more careful when you manage the store.” 

Looking up from your math, you said, “what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing special.”

You set down your pencil. “Do I need to show you another video to prove he’s not the bad guy?”

“God no. That’s all too violent.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “They’re calling him a hero, Mom.” 

Barely moving her head, she looked up at you from her magazine. “ _ The Bugle _ is calling him a menace.” 

“ _ The Bugle  _ doesn't know what they’re talking about.” 

Your mother let out a sarcastically amused ‘hmph,’ and there was silence until about ten minutes later. “He looks smaller in real life.” 

Now that was something she got right. You made a face in agreement, nodding your head. “Yeah.” 

After that day, he listened to your advice. He listened to your advice very well because he started showing up at least once a week. Quickly, he found out that the days your mother wasn’t working were the slowest days at your ice cream parlor. Sometimes he came in to use your restroom but other days he came in just to keep you company. 

“You know,” you said, wiping down the counter. “You went viral.” 

He winked at your statement. “I’m always going viral.” 

You scoffed. “Maybe I should have said my mom went viral.” 

“What do you mean?” The eyes of his mask grew small at the corners, showing confusion.

Speaking as you pulled up the article on your phone, “I mean my mom bullying you is what made you go viral.” At the top of the crappy  _ Post _ article was a video, taken from the point of view from one of the customers. It was titled, “Local Feud Between Store Owner and Vigilante.” 

“Who took that?” He asked, reading the rest of the article. 

You shrugged. “Probably one of the customers. It was really busy that Friday.” 

“This ruins my reputation!” 

You laughed. “What reputation?”

He took a step back, struck by your question. “My badass reputation!” You laughed again. “What’s so funny?” 

“You don’t think visiting the lonely store clerk every week ruins your ‘badass rep’?” You signified quotes around the two words with your hands.

He shook his head certainly. “Absolutely not. I’m just doing my due diligence.” 

“Ah,” you nodded your head amusedly. “I see.” 

#

You were heading your way home from a study session at your best friends house when he came swinging down at you. “I’ve heard it’s safer to walk New York at nightfall with a buddy.” 

The sudden disrupt of your thoughts made you jump but you calmed down when you realized who the speaker was. “What am I, a first grader? I think i can handle a little walk to the subway station.” 

Letting go of his web, he dropped down beside you. “If you say so.” 

You look back at the previously discarded web as it hung in the air. “What happens to those when you’re done with them?” 

“Hm? Oh, the webs? They dissolve after like four hours.” You nodded in approval. “Oh, before I forget.” He maneuvered his backpack around to open it up and pull something out. Inside was a small envelope that he revealed to you was filled with money. 

“What’s this?” 

“A small thank you. For all the times you let me use your restroom. I looked at the basic price of an ice cream at your shop and did some calculations. So here.” He held out the envelope to you. 

You looked down at it in front of you and thought for a moment. “Hmm, no. I think it might be better if you came into the store and gave it directly to my mom.” The pair of you stopped walking as you made it in front of the steps leading down to the subway. 

He laughed as if you were telling a joke. “Ha! No, I don’t think so.” 

“Why?” Your arms folded against your chest. “Is Spider-Man afraid of my mom?”

He nodded attentively. “Absolutely. One hundred percent. Your mom is terrifying.”

You chuckled as your eyes widened. “Big of you to admit that.” 

“Does she even like me?”

“Umm,” you started, thinking. 

“So no.” 

“Well! She thinks you make a mess. When you crime fight.” 

He turned his head at you, mask eyes squinting. “Am I getting constructive criticism right now?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “ _ Come _ to the store.” Then you turned away from him and walked down the steps, leaving him hanging. 

As per usual, he listened to your advice. It was an entire week later but he showed nonetheless. You noticed he was good at that. He had a habit of being late, but he still always showed. He happened to make it right after the afternoon rush, walking in awkward. Like his presence was too big to fit in the situation he was placing himself. 

Upon seeing him, your mother’s mood plummeted. She frowned at him. “Well look who’s brave enough to show their face back here.” 

“Hi,” he said. You looked between the two of them, gauging both reactions.  _ This was a good idea _ , you reassured yourself.

“Yeah, yeah. You know the rules. Pay or leave.” 

“Actually,” he held out the envelope. “I’m paying. This is from all the other times.” 

“Oh.” She looked stunned. You bit the inner corner of your mouth to prevent grinning. “Okay. You may proceed.” She took the envelope from him. He nodded in relief and started walking to the restroom. Once he was out of sight, you set your muscles free. Your mother looked up from the register and noticed your amusement. “This does not mean I like him now,” she said. 

You threw your arms up in surrender. “Hey, you’re the one that said it. People can surprise you.”


End file.
